


A Little Help From Ray

by katedf



Category: Death in Paradise
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-01
Updated: 2014-10-01
Packaged: 2018-02-19 13:22:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2389811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katedf/pseuds/katedf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Another take on Camille's blind date for the Erzulie Festival and what follows. Post-ep 2.1</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Little Help From Ray

**Author's Note:**

> This story was inspired by a song. I’ve used a reference to this song briefly in another fic (Groundhog Day chapter of Celebrations), but I wanted to give it a story of its own. Actually, IT wanted a story of its own. I heard the song on the radio the other day and every line seemed to apply to Richard. The song got stuck in my head and refused to leave until I wrote this. So here is a story inspired by my favorite Ray Charles song.

Richard was subjected to a rapid succession of feelings the night of the Erzulie festival. At first he was stunned. He had rarely seen Camille so dressed up. He knew she was beautiful, but tonight she was breathtaking. When she walked toward his table, he stood and complimented her. Being stunned gave way to confusion. She sat at his table and asked for a cocktail. Did she think he was her date? Oh right, as if Catherine would ever set him up with her gorgeous daughter. Still, Camille was sitting there and smiling…

Then, Fidel arrived, and it was Camille’s turn to be confused. Richard explained about babysitting Rosie, and Camille looked even more confused. Then Catherine arrived and scolded Camille for ignoring her date. Richard watched the light dawn as Camille figured out what was going on. He couldn’t believe it! Camille really had thought he was her date—and she didn’t seem to hate the idea. 

A feeling that just might have been hope stirred in Richard. Then he remembered that Camille did, in fact, have a date with someone else. And as happened so often in his life, Richard felt hope die. If the other guy had been late or a no-show, he could have offered to console Camille by stepping in. He could have had a date with Camille without the agony of actually having to ask her out. But the other guy _did_ show up. Richard covered his disappointment by wishing her a nice evening. And he watched her walk away.

As Richard was leaving, he glanced back at Camille as she was greeting her date. For a moment she looked up, and Richard thought he saw a glimmer of something, as if she was trying to tell him something. He was briefly tempted to channel Dustin Hoffman in “The Graduate,” and run over to her and drag her away from her date. No, he thought. Stupid idea. No need to humiliate himself in the middle of Honoré. 

-o-o-o-o-

Camille’s date was going well. They started with a drink on the patio. Armand explained that he was a travel writer. His current project was a book tentatively titled _See the Real Caribbean._ He was eager to get “local” information about Saint Marie.

“My point is,” he explained. “People come to the Caribbean and book into a resort. They enjoy the beach, the pool, the tennis. There may be a golf course at the resort. Or they might dare to step outside the resort to try a course elsewhere—likely at a posh club. But they don’t see the real Caribbean, the places the locals go to.”

“I understand completely!” Camille nodded. “There’s a plastic surgery clinic on the island. We were there on a case, and I saw all these sad lonely women, having nips, tucks, and lifts. They expected physical changes to change their lives. I suggested to one of them that she should try somewhere not geared to tourists, and she did. I saw her on the beach one afternoon. She’d met a man, and they were laughing as they walked along the beach. No surgeon could give her what that happiness and laughter did for her face.”

“Travel should be about experiences! But people go to resorts with all the comforts of home. And the only time they spend outside the resort is the taxi ride from the airport. However gilded it may be, it’s still a cage. I want to tell my readers how to get out of the cage. So tell me what people do here for fun. And start by suggesting somewhere for supper.”

Camille suggested a blues club a little way out of town, and on the way she described some of the small, quiet beaches that the locals used for picnics and parties. “No beach bar, just a cooler of beer and liming with friends.”

“What’s liming?”

“Doing nothing. Hanging out. Our team sometimes goes to our boss’s house at the beach. He still doesn’t get liming. He likes organized fun, like playing board games. Have you ever played Cluedo? We solve crimes for work, and he wants to solve them in a game on the weekend. But we usually get him off the game board and into liming. It just takes a beer or two.”

When they got to the club, Camille greeted the owner and introduced Armand. They were shown to a table, and they ordered dinner. During the meal, Camille talked about both well-known and little-known places to go. The volcano hike was popular but strenuous. She told Armand about the bird sanctuary, which was on more level ground and an easier hike. 

They talked about islands he’d already been to and islands he was going to after Saint Marie. He described the joys of a footloose life, but admitted there were times when he was lonely. He liked being able to be on his own to sit and write. He amused Camille with stories of rushing to meet a deadline or trying to find a plausible excuse for not meeting a deadline. 

The entertainment started while they were having dessert. The singer did some classic blues tunes and then said, “Okay everybody, it’s time for a little bit of Ray.” He started with “Georgia on My Mind.” Next, he sang “You Don’t Know Me.” As Camille listened to the song, it struck her that it was very sad. Of course, she thought, that’s the whole point of the blues.

>   
>  No, you don't know the one  
>  Who dreams of you at night  
>  And longs to kiss your lips  
>  And longs to hold you tight  
> 

Feeling foolish, Camille blinked away tears. She thought how awful it must be to want someone so much and feel you have no chance. She’d heard this song before. Why was it affecting her so strongly tonight?

>   
>  Afraid and shy, I let my chance go by.  
>  A chance that you might love me too.

Giving up and settling for not having what she wanted was not Camille’s style. She’d always felt that taking a chance was worth the risk. Yes, she’d had her heart broken a few times. She remembered crying over some boy at school and her mother reminding her that there would be someone else one day and not to give up hope. But this song was about giving up hope.

>   
>  You give your hand to me,  
>  And then you say, "Goodbye."  
>  I watched you walk away  
>  Beside the lucky guy  
> 

The song ended and Camille applauded automatically. But she wasn’t paying attention. She was trying to figure out why that last bit of the song hit home so hard. The set ended after a few more songs, and Armand suggested an after-dinner drink at the club's outdoor bar.

The waiter brought their drinks and Camille sipped pensively.

“Are you all right?” asked Armand. “You got kind of teary for a bit.”

“I’m sorry. I don’t know why that happened.”

“Don’t apologize. The music spoke to you. That’s a good thing, although I’m sorry it made you sad.”

“Blues,” Camille shrugged. “I suggested this place, so I guess it’s a matter of be careful what you wish for.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“I can’t. Not because it’s too emotional. Because I don’t know why it hit me like that. The last part, about watching someone walk away…” she trailed off as the explanation raced through her mind. Richard. She’d walked away from him to go to Armand’s table. He’d shrugged it off with a casual “have a nice time.” But that last glance back before he left. The way he looked at her… what was the line about being just a friend? That’s all he’d been, at least in her mind. But did she know him?

“Camille? You wandered off again.”

“Oh, sorry. I figured it out. I saw someone I know in that song. He lives alone, spends the evening reading instead of socializing. I think he doesn’t believe that people could like him, so he doesn’t try.”

“Afraid and shy, like the song says?”

“Yeah, I think that’s it.” Camille smiled at Armand, trying to shake off her pensive mood. “But you don’t need to hear about my friend’s problems. Let’s go over your beach tour plan for tomorrow.”

They finished their drinks as they discussed the merits of various beaches around the island. Camille answered a few more questions about the Erzulie festival and soon it was time to leave. Armand drove her home. Camille kissed his cheek, hopped out of the car, and walked into her house.

-o-o-o-o-

Richard took off his jacket and tie, grabbed a beer from the fridge, and walked out onto his veranda. He dropped into a chair and took a large swallow of beer. What a relief! He still wasn’t sure how Catherine had talked him into babysitting. He didn’t know anything about babies. And Rosie was so small! How could anyone manage to care for such a tiny person?

Fortunately, Rosie slept the entire time, and now he could relax. But relaxing gave him time to think, and his mind drifted back to the scene on the patio at La Kaz. Was it possible that Camille really thought he was her date? She sat at his table as if she expected to spend the evening with him. And she didn’t seem revolted by the idea. Could it be possible?

Then he thought about Camille’s date. Richard didn’t get a good look at the man, but he appeared to be broad-shouldered. Probably tall as well, and blessed with a good head of hair. 

“Who am I kidding?” he asked Harry, who appeared on the railing in front of him. “She’s out on a date and I’m here alone. As usual. Oh, don’t look offended. A lizard does not count as a companion and certainly not a date. Hey, why don’t you have a date for the festival? Is that why you live here? Misery loves company?”

Harry snagged a moth that flew by. He gave Richard one more pitying look, then ran off in search of more food. Left completely alone now, Richard sighed and took another drink of beer. 

-o-o-o-o-

Camille was restless. The date had ended early, but she wasn’t tired. She fidgeted with her mobile and finally made a call.

 _“Camille!”_ Catherine answered quickly.

“Hello, Maman.”

_“Why are you calling so early?”_

“I wanted to tell you about my date.”

_“It’s over already?”_

“Yes, Maman. Sorry, no grandchildren. Didn’t you know Armand is here only for a week?”

_“Yes, but I thought you should have a date for tonight, for Erzulie. You haven’t been dating much and I want you to get back into things. You’re clearly out of practice. What were you thinking, sitting and talking to Richard when your date was waiting?”_

“I, um, I thought, well, you said my date was on the patio, and I saw Richard there.”

_“You thought I made a blind date for you with Richard? Why would I do that?”_

“I don’t know. I was surprised to see him there.”

_“Really, Camille. It was the Erzulie festival, not April Fools!”_

“Maman, that isn’t nice.”

_“I’ve got thirsty customers. We’ll talk about it tomorrow. Good night ma chère.”_

“Good night, Maman.” Camille frowned at her mobile. Why did her mother think a date with Richard was a silly idea? Was this the kind of rejection he was hiding from?

Pacing around her living room wasn’t helping her mood, so Camille decided to go for a walk. Honoré was still busy celebrating Erzulie, so Camille went to the beach. She slipped off her shoes and walked on the wet sand with the waves just barely lapping at her feet. After walking for a few minutes, she turned to face the waves. Nothing seemed to help. She wanted to tell Richard that she understood why he was so reticent, but she didn’t want to sound pitying. “I heard this song and it made me realize that you’re just shy.” No, that sounded stupid. And what would she say next? He’d be embarrassed, afraid that she was laughing at him. 

She kicked at the water in frustration, nearly losing her footing. She needed to talk to someone about this. Not Maman, that was clear. She didn’t have any close girlfriends. While she was undercover, most of her old friends had married and started families. They’d lost touch. Now her closest friends were the team. She tended to talk to Richard about almost anything. Maybe she could say, “I have a friend who’s really nice but too afraid to reach out and make new friends.” She shook her head. Duh, he’d see right through that. 

Camille continued walking along the waterline. Maybe this was something they simply couldn’t talk about. And what if she was imagining things? Suppose he wasn’t taking a chance to see if she cared for him because he didn’t care for her? That thought didn’t please her at all. She rather liked the idea of Richard falling in love with her. Ugh, that sounded vain. Except it wasn’t vanity. It was… something else? 

That thought stopped her in her tracks. If anyone were to ask her how she felt about Dwayne or Fidel, she would answer without hesitation. She loved them like brothers. But her feelings for Richard were not sisterly. They were tangled and confused. He drove her crazy, and she retaliated by taking more extreme positions on some issues than she really felt. They argued often and loudly. But if he needed help, she’d be right there, willing to do anything for him. 

Camille stood there, trying to sort out her feelings. Richard was shy and afraid of being hurt. That had never been a problem for her. He probably would let his chance go by. She wanted to take a chance, but she didn’t want to scare him off. If that happened, he’d never let her get close enough to have a second chance. She stood there unaware that the waves were getting higher, until one retreating wave pulled sand out from under her feet. She struggled to keep her balance.

-o-o-o-o-

“Merde!”

The familiar voice made Richard look up from his book. No, he wasn’t “going mental,” as Dwayne would say. It really was Camille. He watched as she stumbled backwards, regained her footing, and then sat down, holding her head in her hands.

He was halfway down the beach before he realized he was running.

“Camille! Are you all right?” He skidded to a stop near her.

“Richard?” She looked over her shoulder and saw how near she was to his house. “I’m sorry if I startled you. I didn’t realize I’d walked this far. The tide must be coming in and I sort of stumbled.”

“Where’s your date?”

“I don’t know,” she shrugged. 

“What’s wrong? Did something happen? Oh, God, did he—”

“No! Nothing bad happened. I just needed to think. I think best on the beach. I kept walking and lost track of where I was.”

Richard sank down and sat next to Camille. “Are you sure you’re all right?”

“I don’t know.” Sensing Richard become tense, she continued, “I’m all right physically. I’m not hurt or molested or whatever else it is you’re thinking. It’s just that something odd happened.”

“Can I help? Do you want to talk about it?”

Camille looked at Richard. The moon was higher in the sky now, and she could see the look of concern on his face. Perhaps this was the opening she needed. 

“It’s hard to explain. We had dinner at a little blues club. The singer was really good. Everything was fine, and then the singer did this song. I’ve heard it plenty of times, but for some reason it hit me hard tonight. Do you know the song _You Don’t Know Me?”_

“The old Ray Charles song?” Richard asked, then sang, “You think you know me well, but you don’t know me. That one?”

“Yes. I didn’t know you could sing.”

“Not well, I’m afraid, but everyone can sing a little,” he shrugged. “What was it about the song that bothered you?”

“I’m not sure. It’s sad, about longing and wanting but not trying. I started to get teary-eyed. Armand was kind, but I felt foolish. And my mind kept coming back to it all evening.”

“Is there someone you think doesn’t know you? Someone from your time undercover?”

“No, nothing from that time,” Camille looked down, trying to think of what to say next.

“I can’t believe that someone you know doesn’t really _know_ you. You’re so open and outgoing. Sometimes I wish I could be like that. I’ve never been able to. What’s the line in the song?” Richard paused, and Camille could tell that he was singing the song in his head. He didn’t sing this time, he simply said, “Afraid and shy, I let my chance go by. I’m not good at taking chances.”

“I let my chance go by tonight. Well, actually, it was taken away from me. I thought you were my date. When Fidel arrived, I found out I was wrong. Then Maman chased me over to Armand. I didn’t want to say anything in front of them, but I wanted to tell you that I liked the idea of you being my date, and if maybe some time you wanted to…” Camille bit her lip and slowly raised her eyes to meet Richard’s.

“I’d like that. Tonight, when you sat at my table, I wondered if you thought I was your date. I was pleased that you weren’t repulsed by the idea.”

“Richard! Of course I wasn’t repulsed. I was sorry I had to go over to Armand. And when you were leaving and you looked back at me, I thought maybe you were sorry, too.”

“So it was me, then? The line about watching you walk away with another man. The song made you think about me?”

“I didn’t figure it out right away. The song made me so sad, but I didn’t know why. When I did figure it out, I thought it was because I felt sorry for you being alone. And then I realized it was much more than that. I don’t know you… really _know_ you. Little things like when you were a kid, what you wanted to grow up to be. And important things, like what made you so afraid to reach out to people. I want to understand, and show you that there are people who won’t hurt you. People who will care for you and want to be with you.” 

“I never expect that to happen. It’s my fault. I know I’m annoying,” Richard shrugged and the half-smile on his face showed he was nervous. “Remember when you said—”

“Don’t joke about it.” Camille reached out and took Richard’s hand. “You make jokes to hide emotions. Don’t hide from me, Richard. I want to be the one who knows you well.”

Richard raised his other hand and caressed Camille’s face. “You do know me, better than anyone I’ve known in a long time. I try to hide, but you find ways to worm your way in.”

Camille smiled. Ordinarily, she would object to being compared to a worm. But she couldn’t tease him now. “It’s because I care about you.”

“You know, if I am the man in the song, there are a few lines we haven’t talked about.” Richard slipped his hand behind Camille’s neck and drew her closer. “I’m the one who longs to kiss your lips and longs to hold you tight.”

Camille leaned forward to meet him halfway. As they kissed, she thought _Thank you, Ray!_  


**Author's Note:**

> Ray Charles is hard to pigeon-hole. His music isn’t pure blues, it’s a mix of a lot of things. But I thought this song would do well in a blues club. Lots of singers have recorded “You Don’t Know Me,” but the Ray Charles version is the one everyone knows. The song was written in 1955 by Cindy Walker as a country song. Ray Charles recorded it in 1962.


End file.
